Joy

Three years ago today, our joy knew no bounds. To say our wedding day was the happiest day of our lives understates the magic that pervaded it all.

The look on David's face when he saw me (see above) for the first time that day:


More magic moments:

Today we are celebrating our joy in each other. Amidst this terribly hard year, its good to remember we still have joy...and deep deep love.

Guest Post By Ezra's Daddy: Ooh Child

We heard this song on the radio in the car yesterday and burst into tears. One of my favorite songs of all time, Ezra's Mommy's too. I have two versions here: the original from the Five Stairsteps, and another from Hall and Oates. Some songs just strike a chord for me, especially these days, and this is one of them.

Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll get brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter

Some day, yeah
We'll put it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter
Some day, yeah
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

Ooh-oo child, things are gonna be easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna be easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter

Some day, yeah
We'll put it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter
Some day, yeah
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

Some day, some day, some day
We'll get it together and we'll get it all done
Some day
When your head is much lighter
Some day, some day, some day
We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun
Some day
When the world is much brighter

Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter
Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier
Ooh-oo child, things'll be brighter

Right now
You just wait and see how things are gonna be
Right now...

8 months

Today is Ezra's 8 month birthday. I miss him.

Instead of my own words, someone just shared with me Ernest Hemingway's response when he was challenged to write a story in 6 words. It sums it all up:

For sale, baby shoes, never worn.

Chills.

Silence

There's been silence in this space for the last 10 days, probably the longest I've gone without writing since I created this blog. Its not that there are not words, I just need them to be in my head for now.

To all those friends whose calls I haven't returned, or whose emails have taken days to get a response, I'm sorry. I just need some space to myself right now. Dealing with the outside world, even loving friends and family, takes a lot of emotional energy when you're grieving. I know a lot of people assume I'm "better" because I'm taking on so much at work, able to be social and smile throughout my work day. I am able to laugh again, and mean it. But just functioning in this way takes every ounce of my energy, leaving me so very depleted for what is most healing, which is time to myself (for writing, reading, reflection, yoga) and time with David.

I can feel the grief changing, but in reality, I am changing, on almost a molecular level. I will never be the same person I was before losing Ezra. I carry with me a layer of sadness even when I am happy. The things that used to bring me the most joy, like pregnant friends and tiny babies, bring me terror, anxiety, jealousy, pain. Whereas before I was self-confident and outgoing, I am fragile now, needing the people around me to be so much more attentive to my cues as to whether I can handle a topic of conversation or not, want to talk or don't want to talk....and when people fail to follow those cues I crumble afterwards in disappointment and tears. And though I don't talk about it much, my feelings of failure and shame around losing Ezra follow me everywhere I go. I miss my son every moment of every day - even when to the outside observer it might seem he's the last thing on my mind. I know deeply in my heart that all of this will never change - I am changed forever.

I feel a disconnect with so many of my friends and family, even those who have tried their hardest to prop me up and show me love on this journey - sometimes it is clumsy love but I do know its love. I have felt anger and disappointment at friends and family who haven't been able to be there in the ways I need...and yet I understand that this loss and its aftermath are so horrific, so devastating, that I may be asking too much. My intent is forgiveness...and I know my heart will follow.

I know I am also changing in positive ways. It used to be so hard for me to admit that anything positive could come from Ezra's death. I am a more compassionate person. I am more attentive to all the sadness and pain around me, and more attentive than ever to bringing healing to all I can. I am redefining community in such meaningful ways, particularly my amazing babylost community. I am more spritual, more connected to the universe. I love deeper.

For now there may be silence. I need to figure out for myself what it means to move forward in the world now that Ezra is dead...my hopes and dreams as I imagined them are dead. I need space to hope new hopes and dream new dreams.

Remembering Kai

Today I am wishing so deeply that we lived in that alternate universe,
the one where I have a beautiful 8 month old son,
and sweet baby Kai was arriving safely into his beautiful parents' arms today.
Oh Danielle and Alan I wish we never had to meet.
and yet I can't imagine surviving this journey without you.

Ezra's candle is alight tonight,

As Ezra's Mommy and Daddy remember a spirit so bright

We honor Sweet Baby Kai throughout these parts

And hold his dear parents Danielle & Alan close in our hearts.

Love,Sarah & David

Random reflections on a week in the life

I am so functional these days, I step back and I’m amazed.
Working hard, producing a lot.
Everyone says how good I look, how well I seem.
I don’t feel well. But I act well.
My grief has compartmentalized, it doesn’t spill into everything anymore.


It took nearly 8 months, but I finally cleaned out my favorite work bag
The one I had with me the day Ezra died
It’s been sitting in a corner
Untouched. I couldn’t bring myself to look inside.
Here’s what I found:
One set of hospital discharge papers.
The book I was reading, The Happiest Baby on the Block
2 rolls of tums
1 bottle of Tylenol
1 protein bar
Everything a very pregnant lady might need,
Before she became the saddest mama on the block.


I have a new client, she’s 5 months pregnant.
Her due date is August 30th, Ezra’s birthday.
She’s delivering at the same hospital he was born.


I had a healing massage.
I told the massage therapist about Ezra.
He told me good things come from the bad, he is living proof.
His mama had a 1 year old son who drowned in a pool.
She was pregnant with twins at the time and she miscarried.
He wouldn’t be here if his older brother hadn’t died.


Another client was so grateful her newborn son was returned to her care,
She told me she was hysterical when they took him away,
You just can’t imagine what it was like...
Oh sweetheart, you don’t know what I can imagine.


Ezra has a spot at our favorite day care.
Where I live, day care wait lists are a competitive sport.
I knew I should have called and told them my son was dead.
Somehow I just hoped I could make that call with good news too,
news of a younger sibling on the way.
But the spirit of that little one isn’t ready to join us yet.
I know she will when the time is right.
I listen to the news, the ‘Noooo!’ building in my head but not in my throat.
And so I am caught off guard, sobbing and wailing in my office.
The door not closed quickly enough to stop the world from hearing my cry.

In an alternate universe....

I have an 8 month old. He got off the waiting list at our first choice day care today. They just called to tell me.

I told them that my son Ezra is dead.

I am wailing as if he died today.